


Class Dismissed

by Laywithmeart



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: Anal Play, F/M, Oral Sex, Requested, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-12 00:31:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19217962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laywithmeart/pseuds/Laywithmeart
Summary: A dirty deed becoming a love dance.





	Class Dismissed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stekliashkina_ua](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stekliashkina_ua/gifts).



> This is for Stekliashkina_ua, who requested a rimming fic. Originally a prompt for another fic I'm currently writing (see the fanfiction game post), but unfortunately it doesn't fit that story. It was, however, too fun not to write it. So, here it is:

Two elements are elevated at the moment, her arse and her sense of touch. Cold air rushes over the bare skin of her back and cheeks, making her shiver even more intensely as David keeps his lips locked on her second pair. His tongue slowly creeps up, inching its way towards the forbidden fruit of this class.

 _"Be careful, Julia. I just might do it."_ He'd warned. She laughed in his face then, thinking he'd never actually attempt such a thing as long as she was the recipient; this type of play isn't and has never been, very usual among her crowd, to say the least.  It's regarded as rather crude and unorthodox for women wrapped in high-end silks on a day to day basis, luxurious sheets with a high thread count comforting them at night, consistently voting for more power in their circle, to be licked _there_.

He must be aware of that, right? And yet, here she is. On the bed, laying among her ripped-off and strewn-about clothes, an image of herself in her current position on full display before her eyes. If she's being totally honest, she did entertain a bit of hope he would try something of this sort despite her half-hearted, conservative protest. She didn't think he'd have the gall but instead was quite happily surprised when he suddenly lifted her from the back and dropped her entire weight to bounce on the soft mattress.

Before she'd registered his line of thought for the positioning of the act, he hadn't just pulled her skirt to her ankles, unhooked her bra and ripped the tiny, lace thong she wore as part of an ensemble to tease him tonight, he'd also managed to bind her wrists to the iron frame of the bed. He'd straddled her legs, resting on the back of her knees, and she could feel herself gushing sticky, hot desire for what was about to happen.

He had started out by kneading the flesh of her buttocks, dropping kisses between her shoulder blades, along her spine and further down as he slowly lifted her hips up. Her hot sergeant, Principal Protection Officer in the Royal and Specialist Protection Command of London's Metropolitan Police, quite literally kissing the ass of The Rt. Honourable Julia Montague MP, Britain's Home Secretary; bloodsucking journalists wouldn't believe her if she called them herself.

 _"Stay like this,"_ He ordered, _"Do not move."_

When he'd suddenly gotten up, she thought it was to free her feet that were still adorned by patent leather boots, to remove the thigh-high, black stockings she was still wearing. He didn't. Instead, he walked over to her study, leaving her alone on the bed with only the rumbling sound in some dresser drawer as reassurance he hadn't completely left the apartment. He reappeared with her old Polaroid camera in his hands and the grin of a madman plastered on his face.

 _"Oh my god,"_ She'd sighed, dropping her head and burying her face in the duvet.

_"Look up, naughty girl."_

_"David, no."_

_"Oh yes, Julia. Definitely yes."_ He'd kept teasing.

 _"Ugh, why?"_ She groaned, sure that embarrassment showed on every single facial feature.

 _"Because I want to remember this forever. And..."_ He stepped closer, smiling with what had appeared to be awe, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. _"because you look absolutely delicious, love."_

The right corner of her lips had turned up, yet she still questioned the possible dire consequences of that kinky plan of his. As if reading her mind, he'd immediately nuzzled the sensitive spot behind the lobe of her ear and reassured her.

 _"I promise to guard the image with my life, I'll delete any evidence that even hints at its existence if I ever come across it."_ A kiss, _"May I please take a photo?"_ He smirked, and quickly added a necessary touch with a stern face, _"Ma'am?"_

She'd nodded. That is how she now finds herself with her arse still on full display, the face of her dutiful bodyguard/boyfriend wedged between her cheeks, tongue slowly inching up from her labia to the orifice of her backside, all while she looks herself in the eye as David had placed the uncustomary picture right in front her.

She's started trembling, waiting for it. Then the tip of his tongue swipes the rim of her anus and she lets slip an embarrassingly high shriek. Neither elite formal training nor marriage to a dominance-seeking, germ freak husband prepares one with experience or etiquette for such a meal.

Her heart is in her throat, pounding away. He's deliberately torturous, relentless in his snail-paced foreplay on her maiden crack. It leaves her making the most unbecoming high-pitched noises, squealing and hissing and panting at every wet flick or caress.

Suddenly he dives right in like this act is all he has in this life, nothing in the world as precious as her pleasure, nothing so important it comes before licking her clean. 

"Oh, Holy _fuck_ , David!" Shit, those lips, that tongue.

"What babe?" His words are muffled by the mouthful of flesh he just cannot seem to part with.

"Your mouth, my God, so- OH!" She practically roars as David curls his tongue and dips in just slightly.

The rough stubble of his chin and jaw burn her skin, heating her up all the more, adding to her vehement need. She's no longer able to hold herself steady with her arms indisposed, all she can do is hide her flushed face in the nook of her elbow as that wonderful mouth of his works its magic.

David's clearly enjoying it as well as he too is moaning and groaning continuously, and she must be so very soft because he seeks to bury his entire face like she's his favourite cushion. Occasionally he gasps, sucking in oxygen and uttering praise before quickly moving back in. His words of admiration flow over her sensitive skin, clinging to her and building her up to illuminate in his worship of her body.

He becomes gentler, settling on a deep rhythm, adding a loving caress on her lower back with his strong hands. Her hips roll back and forth a little, a dirty deed becoming a love dance.

The warmth of his breath against her has her reeling, mind screaming, blessing his very existence before whimpering several phrases worth a confession. A fine sheen of sweat starts to cover her entire shape, the trembling intensifies; she is close. Her breathing grows so rapid, she could swear her lungs are in the process of giving out.

Unhurried, minimal vertical swipes, that is all it takes in the end. So sweet, yet so dirty. Profoundly effective. She comes in his mouth, grinding to a halt as white-hot pleasure engulfs her.

Afterwards, she's like jelly, sunk in a pile of white sheets, sated and content. David very carefully releases her hands from her bonds, catching her wrists before they drop bonelessly beside her head. He takes the photo, places it lovingly on the bedside table to keep it from getting creased. He rolls her over, licks and kisses a trail from auburn curls to auburn curls, South to North, leaving her belly and the soft mounds of her breasts glistening with his territorial markings.

"Well? Learned your lesson?"

She beams a wicked grin at him. "If not, will we have to keep practising this exercise, professor?"

 

 


End file.
